The Fresh Roast
by labyrinthofsuffering11
Summary: Realistic?Coffee Shop AU. John Noble didn't plan to work at The Fresh Roast, a small and dingy corner shop owned by Jack Harkness, but will soon come to be glad he did. Through normal busy mishaps that come from working in retail it takes a while for him to ask Rose on a date.
1. Chapter 1

To say that John Noble loved his job would be...an overstatement. A corner coffee shop would not have been his first choice in career when he was younger, in fact, he thought it was a job only reserved for high schoolers and recent college graduates, but life had thrown him a few surprising curveballs that had meant he settled.

A recently retired military man, John had done a few tours in the royal navy and hadn't had much experience in anything besides as he had gone straight in after his AS levels. Not many places would hire him without his A levels, and as his parents had recently passed away and left their estate to his sister, Donna and him, he was too busy to study for his tests.

He had to find a way of making a living somehow, as he didn't want to live in his parents' house forever. Too many sad memories in the place, and besides, there would be another family that would find it far more beneficial than the thirty-seven year old bachelor. His sister had suggested this place to him as she saw it on her way to the office she was temping at this month, and saw there was a help wanted sign in the window.

The owner was a randy American man named Jack who was younger than him by a few years, and had only asked him a few simple questions before proclaiming John Noble hired. It had nothing to do with qualifications, he found out, and more to do with the fact that the owner like a bit of a drink and didn't want to come in early with a hangover. A perfect situation for John, as he was used to being an early riser from his years in the navy.

The Fresh Roast was a dingy venue with a much too bright neon sign, a first business venture opportunity that the American had seized at without taking much look at the fine print. The space was small, dimly lit, and in need of a good scrubbing. Still, Jack had managed to make do with what he had by adding some solid wooden tables and chairs for customers to sip their beverages at; a decent wi-fi connection for the students and the business go-ers; a cheerful wallpaper; and some good coffee.

So, every day at five a.m. he arrived to the coffee shop and unlocked the doors. He brewed a fresh pot of coffee for himself and made sure all the supplies were well stocked. Today had been a normal day of operations: the usuals coming in for their hazelnut lattes, the mothers stopping off for their childrens' steamed milk before school, and the students needing the blackest coffee available to deal with their lack of sleep.

It was here that John laid eyes on the most beautiful woman that had ever crossed his sights. The spotty flourescents framed her blonde waves, giving her a surprising ethereal glow. She was dressed in a soft brown leather jacket over a mustard yellow top, and her warm brown eyes sparkled when she greeted him.

"Hello!" he greeted her more cheerfully than the usual paying customer, with a daft grin gracing his lips. "What can I get for you?"

"Latte, please," she requested in a voice tone that matched her warm eyes. "Lord knows I'll need it."

"Where are you headin' off to at this hour?" he asked conversationally, ringing up her purchase.

She sighed. "I have an eight o' clock clinical at the hospital."

"Student?" he asked.

"Yeah, down at University of London," she told him. Her gaze held him for a moment before he cleared his throat.

"That'll be 3 pounds. And can I get a name?"

"It's Rose," she told him, grinning as she handed over the notes. "Thanks, John."

He was about to ask how she knew his name, before he remembered he was wearing a bloody nametag on his apron. "Do you like it?" he asked instead.

"What?" she asked. "The clinical?"

"Yeah."

"Oh! Yeah, I mean, I wanted to be a doctor. I want to help save people after my dad died," Rose said. "Ya gonna give me the change?" she joked, motioning to where John still clenched the pound notes in his fist.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, hitting the register button to make the drawer spring open and he sighed when it jammed again. John sighed. "Hang on, it'll just be a mo'. This happens sometimes."

He reached inside his apron pocket where he kept a screwdriver to jimmy the sides of the drawer to catch the latches. He bent down to see what he was doing, twisting the tool side to side when suddenly he heard a _pop!_ and had the unfortunate pleasure of the drawer smashing into his already obtrusive nose.

Rose gasped. "Are you alright?"

John popped up with a grin, waggling his fingers at her. "Yeah. Just clipped me barely," he lied smoothly as the pain in his nose roared through his ears and he silently cursed any god that would listen about this god-forsaken place.

With a nod of determination, he placed the pound notes into the drawer and quickly did the math in his head of her change, before thrusting it happily towards her. "Right, Rose. I'll have that latte right out for you if you want to wait on the other side of the counter. Thanks."

"No, thank you," she said sincerely. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, her eyes holding deep concern and her lips pursing slightly. "Maybe you should get some ice. It looks really red, mate."

"It's really fine," he told her again, before turning on his heel and silently kicking himself for the embarrassment he caused himself. What was he playing at? He was behaving like a school boy with his first crush. Just ask her out- just

"Excuse me?" came a snide voice from behind him. "If you're quite done flirting with that woman, I'd like to use this coupon."

"I'll be with you in just a mo'," he promised, while shuddering internally at the word 'coupon'. Coupons were more trouble than they were worth, and he usually ended up getting frustrated and giving up at any attempt to reason with the customer.

John quickly started steaming the milk required for Rose's latte and poured the coffee into a to-go cup he hastily labeled with her name on it, scrawling a tiny smiley face on her cup before shaking his head at his own stupidity and crossing it out in a mad scribble.

He poured the steamed milk into the cup and set it down in front of her patient, smiling face. He was about to say something else before the woman at the register cleared her throat impatiently, grating on his nerves. With a shrug of his shoulder and a mumbled "Sorry", he turned his attention away from her and towards the coupon lady.

With the best smile he could muster, John asked, "What is the coupon, ma'am?"

She thrust a crumpled, water stained, and slightly torn piece of paper in his face so close to him that his eyes crossed trying to read what it said. Her hand brushed against his injured nose, and he had to breath deeply to keep himself from cursing out loud. He gently reached up to grab the paper and move it to a reasonable distance to read it, only to wonder who he had pissed off for this woman to be trying to use a two years past expiration date coupon.

"Ma'am," he said as politely as he could, "I'm afraid I can't accept this."

"Why not?" she roared. "I bet if I was that young blonde woman you would have accepted it!" She sniffed, her nose upturned in the air.

"Actually," John said calmly. "I wouldn't. It's two years past expiration."

"Well, that's hardly my fault is it?" she continued with a huff. "Didn't know you existed, did I, until just last week?"

"Be that as it may, I can't take it." John placed it onto the counter top. "But, I would be happy to make you a coffee."

"I don't want it if it's _not free_!" she shouted. "Where is your manager? Let me speak to him!"

"My manager would tell you the same thing," he told her. "He isn't in right now."

"What sort of place is he running here?!" she demanded. "Leaving a man like you in charge of his business while he's off galivanting, no doubt-"

It was here John Noble lost his temper, and spent the next thirty minutes in heated debate that he knew would probably get them a bloody awful Yelp review. Stupid technology. By the time the lady had left, Rose was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

John Noble was awoken from his sleep by the blaring of his mobile phone. He groaned, squinting in the dark at his alarm clock that read two am, and jabbed the answer button.

"'Lo?" he grumbled out.

"John!" came the too cheerful voice of his boss, Jack Harkness.

"Jack," he said, "this better be bloody important as it's two in the morning."

"Is it?" the man on the other line mused. "So it is. Sorry. Anyways, I know it's your day off, but is there any one I can get you in just for a few hours?"

John sighed. "Opening?"

"Yes," came the pleading voice, and John wondered if Jack was pouting on the other end. "Just until ten! Then I'll be there to relieve you, promise. Just have something to take care of."

He thought about how he could really use the extra money to get his own place. "Okay," he agreed. "Just make sure you're not late. Donna and I are goin' to the lawyer's office at eleven."

"You're the best!" Jack called, making half asleep John wince.

"Yeah. Night." He jabbed the end button and threw the mobile onto his bed with a huff. He pulled the pillow over his head and let himself succumb to sleep once more.

….

The day had been passing quite slowly until Rose's face stood out in the chaos of the morning, smiling brightly at him across the counter at eight o' clock.

"Hello," she said a little weakly, rubbing her temples.

"Long night?" he asked. "And the latte again?" His fingers were already poised above the cash register keys to type it in.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Got pissed at the pub with some mates. We were celebratin' the end of a hell week. Forgot I promised mum I'd meet her for her dress shoppin' early this morning. And latte sounds gorgeous, thanks."

John typed it in quickly, and chuckled. "Today was supposed to be me day off, but the owner convinced me to take another shift."

"Glad he did," Rose said, before looking away with a pink flush decorating her cheeks.

John wondered at that. Did that mean she thought he was attractive? He shook his head. Rose was just nice to people, he could tell that since the first time they met. Besides, he was almost twice her age, and could easily be mistaken for her dad almost. "Right. It's three pounds and allow me to gift you with a pastry for bein' so well behaved the other day when that lady was screamin' in our faces and me bein' rude."

"Well, I'll take the pastry, but I don't think you were rude," Rose said sincerely. "You were workin', yeah? Got busy. I had to dash off anyways." She pulled the pound notes from her wallet, which he noticed was leather and dog-eared, some sort of cartoon kitten adorning it.

"Okay," he agreed, taking the notes from her and placing them in the cash drawer.

"Noticed you have a bruise," she said, pointing to his nose.

"Didn't really notice." John waved her off. It was true that he barely noticed the sore spot unless he rubbed his nose against something. "I'm fine."

"You should let me take a look at it," she offered. "It would be good practice."

"In a strictly educational standpoint, I suppose."

Rose grinned at him, her tongue poking between her teeth in that tantalizing smile that made his heart feel tight. "Thanks."

John busied himself with making her latte, and pulled a fresh buttery croissant from the display case, wrapping it with utmost care in paper and placing it with a napkin on the other counter. When the machine beeped letting him know the milk was ready, he finished the coffee placing that beside the treat and motioning to her. "You're all set."

"Not until you let me see that nose," she insisted. "Partly my fault, isn't it?"

"How is it your fault?" he asked amusedly. "I knew that drawer is wonky and I still put my face in the trajectory."

"It got stuck when you were puttin' my money in," Rose said. "So, therefore, it's my fault."

John shook his head. "That's ridiculous. Don't blame yourself for my mistake." He lifted the counter that separated them and came to stand in front of her. She was so close, he could smell the sweet smell of her perfume and hints of her shampoo.

"You smell nice," she complimented, making his ears flush red.

"Er, thanks."

Rose reached up carefully and cradled his nose. She studied him carefully as he looked down at her warm brown eyes. She was quite a few inches shorter than him, so her head was tilted upwards as she moved him from side to side. "Does this hurt?" she asked, poking his nose lightly.

"A little," he admitted, feeling a slight twinge from her fingers, but also a slight electric buzz.

She studied him again, before straightening and backing away from him. John was already feeling the loss of her warm and nimble fingers. "What's the diagnosis, doc?" he teased.

"Think it's just bruised. Just be careful with it, and apply some ice." She stared at him for another moment, and he was about to open his mouth and say something else when the door chime sounded.

He turned his back to Rose to look at the new patron. An older guy holding a clipboard looked at him. "Are you an employee here?"

"Yeah," John answered. "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"I need you to sign some forms. It's an inspection."

John swallowed. "An inspection? Owner didn't tell me there was one."

The man smiled. "It's random. Should have nothing to worry about if you're up to code."

He thought about the mold clinging stubbornly to the floor tiles and the hole in the wall in the bathroom that had been meaning to get fixed. He also knew if he turned them away, Jack would be in worse trouble. "Course. Let me sign those for you."

"I'll be goin', John!" Rose called from over by the counter. "Gotta be meetin' my mom. Hope to see you again soon."

"Yeah, bye, have a good day," he replied. He didn't dare look until the door chime sounded again.

"She's pretty," the man doing the inspection noted.

"Ah, she's too young," John said, signing the forms with ease. "Now, you're with who?"

…

"A Mr. Recter came by earlier," John mentioned to Jack when he came in later at 10:10 with a sheepish look plastered on his face.

The raven haired American asked, "Who?"

"He's with the city inspection team. They did a random sanitary inspection."

"Shit," Jack cursed. "What did he say?"

John shrugged. "Gave us a passing grade because our food area is spotless, but said we gotta do somethin' about that mold and the hole in the bathroom."

Jack sighed. "I know. I'm just waiting to rise up from debt a little more before I do any work on the place."

"I could scrub the floors at least," John suggested. "Donna has somethin' for it, I think."

"You'd be a star!" Jack enthused. "I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't," John said confidently, hanging his apron on the hook. "Have fun."


End file.
